


Next July We Collide With Mars

by SegaBarrett



Category: Psycho 2 (1983)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28151013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: Norman and Mary spend some time together.
Relationships: Norman Bates/Mary Loomis
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3
Collections: Holiday Horror 2020





	Next July We Collide With Mars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Psycho characters, and I make no money from this.
> 
> A/N: Title from "Well Did You Evah" by Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra.

Norman had found that he liked working at the diner. There was a peace that his mind brought about when he was there, tossing some fries into the deep fryer and dragging them upwards, or listening to Mary chat about her friends back in the city and all of the drama they get up to, that puts him at ease.

It had been a long time since he felt that way, and at first he couldn’t find it in himself to like it. The quiet was, by its very nature, oddly disquieting, but there it is, drawing him in. 

He couldn’t always think of something to say to her, but that was okay, because she usually has something to say instead.

It was the first time that he had ever worked for somebody else. Before, it was always the motel, and his motel had let him handle the day to day ever since she’d become so obsessed with her new lover. Norman had been the manager, technically, and he had been the one to say what went where, not that there were any employees to order around and barely any customers to serve. 

The diner was different – always bustling, with people in and out from all over Fairvale. Regulars, especially, but some travelers too. 

And he got time to chat with Mary. He had missed out on a lot in the last twenty years, and probably a lot of things before it, so he enjoyed listening to her complain and laugh about little things, telling him all about her friends and the things she does when she isn’t stuck at work.

He wanted to make a move, but he found himself not even really sure what that entailed. Should he ask her to go on a date? To go steady? Old movies were only a shaky guide.

When he rehearsed the words in his mind, they started to split apart and lose all of their meaning. What was he supposed to say to her?

But it seemed like, on the other hand, he did need to say something. He wanted her to know how much he looked forward to seeing her smile every day – the way she did it so effortlessly.

It had always been an effort for him, for a long, long time.

Finally, it was as she was slipping out the door to the diner, and he caught her shoulder. 

“Hey, Mary?” he called. She turned around, looking shocked at first, then a little annoyed, and then finally with that smile all over again.

“Oh, hey Norman,” she replied. She reached up and ran a finger through her hair. He could tell the nervous energy was bouncing off of her, and he wished that he could quell it. But how could he do that when he felt like such a sounding rod himself, shaking in his spot? He needed to find some words, even if he didn’t know what they would be, even if he couldn’t form them in his mouth. Before he could, she let out a little giggle, and his heart leapt.

He knew what he wanted to ask, the kinds of things he wanted to ask (the sort of things that would have been normal to ask, even) but his mother’s voice still rang in his head, telling him that he needed to keep to himself.

_No girl is good enough for you, boy! If you try to leave me, then you’ll be nothing! You’ve always been nothing!_

His psychiatrist had explained so very patiently that those were just memories of a woman long since dead and long since without any power over him, unless he let her have it. 

He had heard it, but perhaps he hadn’t understood it.

Because his fingers were still shaking as he watched Mary wave to him and then turn to go all over again.

***

When he invited her to stay at the hotel, after he kicked the new owner out on his ear, he did it partially because she had nowhere to go and did it partially because he was painfully lonely.

Then there was the third part. The fact that hearing her fluttering footsteps made each day just a little more bearable in every way.

The TV he had in the front office was old and falling apart and it only played in black and white, but it tended to lull Norman into a sense of calm when he felt panic rising all over again. He was nervous about asking Mary to spend time with him, but maybe she could take something from it too.

He walked over and knocked on Mary’s door, sucked in a breath and waited for the door to open. Maybe it wouldn’t, and then he could retreat down to the office and…

The door opened.

“Hi, Norman.”

“They’re playing _High Society_ on TV tonight,” Norman blurted.

Mary cocked her head to the side.

“What’s that?”

“It’s an old movie with Frank Sinatra in it.”

Mary took a step forward.

“Who’s that?”

Norman laughed.

“You’re making me really feel old now, Mary,” he said, “Frank Sinatra was a famous singer, he, uh, sang this song called ‘My Way.” Norman cleared his throat and, trying to throw embarrassment to the wind, sang, “I did it myyyyy way…”

He had failed on not being embarrassed – his voice broke a little and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. But he couldn’t be that upset with it because Mary stepped forward, put a hand on his cheek, and chuckled.

“I’d love to watch this Frank guy with you.”

Norman chuckled and shook his head, but he led her back over to the office and took a seat in one of the small chairs, leaned back and tried not to think about the times he had sat in this office alone, listening to the sounds of people up and about in the motel or, worse, simply the whistle of the wind and perhaps the cawing of birds in the distance. He had been lonely for a very long time, before.

The way one of her legs slipped over the other was enough for him to get distracted, but he fiddled with remote and put the TV on instead.

The movie was only just starting, after all.

***

Bing Crosby got the girl at the end of the movie, but Norman suspected that Frank Sintra probably got the girl in most movies.

Then again, what did he know?

More importantly, as he looked over, he realized that the slight pressure on his shoulder was that of Mary leaning her head on him, with her eyes slipped shut.

Norman shifted, gently, and put his hand on her back, ready to move her, but then stopped.

He could stay like this a little while longer.

He could stay like this forever, in fact.


End file.
